What If You
by TurnMyGriefToGrace
Summary: She’s been there for him every time he needed her, and even when he didn’t. That’s just what you do when you love someone. You don’t run and hide and pretend everything is okay. Meredith knows from experience that stuff like that is crap. 5.17 oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I wish I owned it, but sadly, I don't. I don't own the song used for the title either. That belongs to Joshua Radin. ;)**

**This is a post 5.17 MerDer one shot. Hope you enjoy it! :)**

_What if you  
Could wish me away  
What if you  
Spoke those words today_

_..._

_"You don't leave the people you love alone."_

It was her mantra. Of course, it had been for a while now. Not just when Derek's alter ego comes out and scares the hell out of her. She's been there for him every time he needed her, and even when he didn't. That's just what you do when you love someone. You don't run and hide and pretend everything is okay. Meredith knows from experience that stuff like that is crap. It doesn't work.

Dealing with it is hard as hell, but she had no choice. She'd been building up bravery the whole way out to the trailer. The drive over seemed ten times longer than usual. And all of that beautiful courage wavered big time as she stepped out of the car. The only other time she'd seen him drunk was the night they met. He was flirty and she was horny and things weren't complicated.

Sometimes, she missed those days. The days before Addison showed up and pulled the blissful rug of sex and happiness out from under her. Under _them_. Back when the fairytale was possible-when she was living the fairytale. _Boy meets girl. They fall in love and live happily ever after. That was the dream._ Most fairytales don't include secret wives, bombs, drownings, and rebound scrub nurses. But that was life. And if Meredith had learned one thing from all this, it was that all of that Disney princess stuff was complete and total bull.

She knew Derek was in the dark place. The dark place had been her hang out once upon a time, and though she had no desire to go back, she would do it if it was the only way to pull him out of it.

_"You don't leave the people you love alone."_

That doesn't make what he said to her any less painful, even if she knows better than anyone what it's like to feel that way. It stung and hurt and knocked the wind out of her. Derek doesn't talk to her that way. He usually saves that kind of talk for Mark, who has no problem slinging the vitriol right back at him. But with those two, it's more so blowing off steam. They get over it.

It's different for her and Derek. Wounds run deeper when it's the person you're in love with. Still though, she's not bailing. She can't. For better or worse, she loves him, even though her engagement ring-to-be is sitting somewhere in the grass in front of her.

She ponders whether or not to sleep in her car or sneak into the trailer after he's passed out for the night. Neither of those are really ideal, but she can't go home.

_"You don't leave the people you love alone."_

He's probably brooding in there, too drunk to know or care where the hell she is. Sober Derek would invite her in and let her borrow clothes and make her breakfast in the morning. This Derek though, the drunk and angry version? Not so warm and inviting.

Meredith lets out a breath. The air around her feels stagnant, even out in the open, just like the whole house has felt lately. The ground under her feet is littered with beer cans. It almost feels like a sin against nature to defile the land like this. From where she stands, she can see the field where she once stood, surrounded by her candles and waiting for her Prince Charming on the hill. She laughs bitterly at how different it felt being out here this time around. Candles no longer line the earth at her feet. The land for their maybe-would be-house was dark now.

All of the magic had since been replaced with the reality. She got her fairytale. Now she has to live it. Life after the fairytale is strange territory. It's all about the romance and the ball gowns and the castles in the movies. Dealing with the brooding, drunk Prince Charming is something they never tell you about, probably because that's the part no one wants to know. The fantasy is much more appealing than what really happens, like when your boyfriend grand slams your ring with a baseball bat.

Meredith kneels down on the grass and picks it up. The diamond still looks vibrant, sparkling thanks to the lights coming from the trailer. She holds it between her fingers, but doesn't put it on. In her heart, she knows it'll be on her finger at some point, but decides to let Derek do that. Sure, he can be an ass, but she loves him. He deserves to put the ring on her. The right way. There's a small dent from the impact of the bat, making the edge look a little concave, but besides that, it's perfect.

She smiles. _Just like her and Derek_. They've had their fair share of nicks and bumps, but at the end of the day, they love each other. Somehow, the perfection of being with each other overcomes the flaws.

The wind whips around her and leaves her with a chill. Meredith always remembers to dress in layers when she comes out here. It's secluded and quiet and remarkably cold compared to the city air. But she still prefers it to anywhere else. Spending a night with Derek out here every once in a while became less and less common as they got settled into the routine of living together. She hadn't realized how much she missed it.

Meredith tucks the ring safely in the pocket of her coat. Just having it with her made her brave. Even if he was pissed at the world, he _does _love her. He loved her enough to get it-or buy it-she doesn't know. Meredith makes a note of it to ask him when he eventually proposes for real. It doesn't look glitzy or glamorous, which he knows isn't something she'd like. It's simple and elegant. He _really_ did know her.

And she knew him well enough to know that come morning, after he slept off the booze and the anger, the regret would hit him like a punch in the gut. Meredith sighs; she'd be the one that would have to deal with the aftermath. As a way to give him enough time to drink himself to sleep, she decides to at least start to clean up the pieces, even if it's just gathering up the cans that he'd simply batted away when all of the alcohol inside had been drained.

She glances back toward the porch. _At least he recycled_. Meredith treaded over to the trailer and hauled the blue bucket out into the grass. There's no way the land where their kids would play one day could spend the night covered in cans seeping with the last of the alcohol that remained at the bottom. One by one, she picked them up and tossed them in. Thirteen cans in all. Plus whatever he drank that came in a glass bottle. _No wonder he was such an ass tonight; not even she could hold that much liquor. _Meredith thanked her lucky stars that he had enough sense not to smash glass. She barely trusted him with a bat, let alone anything sharp. By the time she's finished with task number one, the lights have gone off in the trailer.

_Onto task two: him._

After replacing the recycling bucket, Meredith takes a deep breath. Taking a step inside is a test of courage. Sticking her hands in the fire. He wreaked havoc on the outside world; she could only imagine what chaos had ensued within the confines of the small trailer. But still, she goes in.

_"You don't leave the people you love alone."_

The stench of alcohol hits her immediately. It's pungent and raw and makes her stomach turn. The scent reminds her of the days when tequila soothed her to sleep. Back when she didn't have Derek to come home to. Even the reminder of back then was enough to boost her strength. There's no way in hell she'd let him slip further into the dark.

Apparently, the alcohol had gotten the best of him, because Meredith finds him passed out on the couch. He couldn't even drag his ass over to the bed. She shakes her head. "Derek."

"Meredith, go home," he groans. "Leave."

"Derek, stop it," she hisses. She notices the cans that decorate the counter. Seven more to add to the thirteen. Plus a nearly empty bottle of scotch. "How much did you drink? You'll be lucky if you don't get alcohol poisoning. Sit up." Meredith takes his shoulders and gently forces him into a sitting position. "Can you walk?"

"Meredith!"

The tone of voice makes her jump but she doesn't falter. She just holds him tighter. "Derek, you can yell at me. I don't care. Call me names if you want, if it makes you feel better. But I'm not going anywhere."

"Why the hell do you care? I told you...I'm giving you an out. You don't wanna be here-_I don't want you here_. Go home." If he were sober, those words would have weight to them. But she knows that they're laced with alcohol and general disdain for humanity, so she lets them roll right off her back.

"You want me here. You don't know it right now, but you do. In the morning, when you wake up with a massive hangover, _believe me. You'll want me here_," Meredith stresses. Being harsh seems like a more effective strategy than coddling him.

"I'm _fine_!" he yells, struggling to release himself from the grasp her hands have on his shoulders.

Meredith scoffs. "Yeah? Do you usually sleep on the couch when there's a bed five feet away?"

"Damn it, Meredith! Drop it! I'm not your child!" He finally gives in and lets her hold him upright. There was no use in fighting her. She wasn't budging.

"No, you're not. Do you think I want to treat you this way? Do you think I like seeing you like this? Because I don't. But I love you so that means I'm staying," she says, dropping down on her knees to pull off his shoes.

"What the hell are you doing?" he says, his voice warbled but not as angry as it had been outside. His rage was no match for the equivalent of twenty plus consumed beverages flowing through his veins.

Meredith tossed his shoes across the room. The last thing she needed was him falling over them. "Helping you. I like to think that if the situation was reversed, you'd do it for me," she states calmly. "Stand up."

"You wouldn't let me. You'd push me away. Accuse me of hovering. I did you a favor moving out, admit it," Derek slurs, but still doesn't fight it when she lifts him up off the couch.

She struggles to keep him on his feet. He dwarfed her in comparison. "You're moving back in tomorrow. We're in this together. And you living out here won't work."

_"You don't leave the people you love alone."_

"You don't want me there..." he argues. "You never wanted me there."

"If that were true, I wouldn't have asked you to move in at all. I like having you there. And you can lie all you want, but I know you like being there too," Meredith challenges, leading him to the bathroom. "Go."

Derek sighs heavily, frustrated that his feet weren't cooperating with his brain. "Go where?"

"In there," she says, all but pushing him in the small box of a bathroom. "If you think there's a chance in hell that I'm cleaning pee-soaked sheets tomorrow morning, you're crazy. Now go."

While he's in the bathroom, hopefully emptying his bladder, Meredith rummages through the drawers and cabinets searching for a bottle of aspirin. Tomorrow morning is going to hit him hard, and she wants to lessen the blow in any way she can. Eventually she finds it and shakes two into her hand before replacing the cap. Derek stumbles out of the bathroom door, bracing himself on the handle of the shower so he doesn't fall down.

Meredith thrusts her arm out at him. "Take these," she orders. "I'll get you some water."

Derek stares at the small white pills but doesn't take them from her. "I don't want them."

"Would you just swallow the damn things?" she asks, her tone growing more and more frustrated. "If I had a banana bag with me, I'd shove the damn thing in your arm."

The angry look in her eyes is one she knows, whether he's drunk or sober. Reluctantly, he reaches for the pills and downs them both at once with the water Meredith hands him. "You can go now," he says gruffly.

"You really are drunk, aren't you?" Meredith asks sarcastically. "Give me the ring box."

"Keep it, it's yours. Congratulations, we're engaged," he shoots back just as cynically, staggering into the bedroom.

Meredith laughs harshly. "Like hell we are," she mocks. "I don't want it-not like this."

"My mom wants you to have it. Take it." Apparently, mixing Derek with alcohol made him stubborn as hell. Clearly she hadn't noticed this side of him the night they met.

Derek!" she shouts. "Give me the God damn box!"

He pulls it from his pocket and tosses it to her. Meredith has to give him some credit. Even in his drunken stupor, he had remarkable baseball skills. She laughs silently at the thought before replacing the ring back in the box. She snaps it shut; the box finds its way back together with a cracking sound that even startles her own ears. The next time she sees it, Meredith hopes the situation is dramatically different. _Sober Derek. No baseball bats. No screaming matches. All of it replaced with happiness. When and where aren't so important._

Derek collapses onto the bed and rolls on his side. At least she got him that far. "Go home, Meredith," he groans, tossing his body around on the mattress in an attempt to find a position that lessened the phantom hangover that lingered in his body.

"I'm not going home. If you don't want me in the bed with you, that's fine. I can sleep out in the car or on the couch. Which one is going to make you feel less guilty in the morning? Pick one," Meredith says, pulling open the drawer to the nightstand and setting the velvet box next to the condoms and eye drops he kept in there.

"Why the hell is this so important to you? Why can't you just drop it?" he barks, reaching for a pillow and holding it over his head.

Meredith runs a hand through her hair. "Because I love you, Derek! That's why! I love you and I'm not walking out this time. I know I've done that before, but _so have you_. We've _both_ hurt each other, but I'm done with that now. I don't want to hurt you. And if I left, you'd be hurt. Admit it. When you wake up in the morning, hungover and throwing up, you would be upset if I wasn't here."

"You don't want to be here."

"Derek, shut up and pick one. Couch or car. Either way, I'll be here in the morning," Meredith persists, dumping out the remainder of liquor into the sink.

"Do whatever the hell you want," he sighs. Meredith nods in approval; he's done fighting her on it.

It might be a bad idea considering the past hour has been admittedly...unpleasant, but she leans over the bed and kisses his forehead_. What's that saying? Kill them with kindness or whatever? That had become her tactic._ "I love you," she whispers. "And I know you're not going to say it back right now, but that's okay. I know you love me too."

He doesn't offer the slightest amount of reciprocity, but that was to be expected. Meredith walks over to the couch and sits, giving herself a moment to celebrate her triumph.

_She didn't run. She didn't cry. She didn't let him get to her. She just did what she knew how to do. Love him._

_"You don't leave the people you love alone."_

After she pulls off her shoes and removes her coat, slinging it across to the small kitchen table, Meredith hears him shift in the bed. "In the box," he says hoarsely.

She unfolds the throw blanket that was resting on the arm of the couch, then looks to him confusedly. "What?"

"I packed you a change of clothes in the box," he states. It comes out slurred and exhausted, but she still knows what he said.

Meredith pads over to the cluster of boxes containing his clothes, which had previously been occupying space in her closet, and finds her Dartmouth tee shirt and a pair of sweats on top of his own belongings.

_His peace offering._

_He knew that she'd show up. But more importantly, he knew she wouldn't leave either. He didn't want her to leave. After all the wrath he unleashed on her, she was still there._

_He knows it. And she knows it._

_"You don't leave the people you love alone."_

Meredith quickly changes into the clothes he supplied, then curls up on the couch. The trailer smells like stale alcohol and she's going to have one hell of a time dealing with the aftermath of 'Hangoverfest '09', but still, she smiles. She came over, did what she had to do, and the thought of running away didn't cross her mind once. It was a victory, no matter how small. She loved him, and she knew he loved her too. And that was enough to get them through anything.

_..._

_But for tonight  
I'll stay here with you  
Yes, for tonight  
I'll lay here with you_

**I hope you enjoyed it!**


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